The Elixir
by myharlequinromance598
Summary: An old woman, close to death, wishes to see her husband. Warning: Character death. please r&r. Updated!
1. The End

The plot bunny just came to me as I was listening to Blue October's "Hate Me." This could stand as a oneshot but I'm considering expanding it; r&r to let me know what you think. The pairing is HG/SS, and I guess it's a fluff fic.

**warning: character death**

I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters, however much I wish I did. I'm not getting any money, so don't sue me, cause I'm broke.

--mhr598

* * *

She was an old woman now, wrinkled and slightly senile. All day, she rocked back and forth in the old chair, gazing out the window to the broad expanse of forest. She was softly humming to herself and stroking her wedding band when her son walked into the room, carrying her lunch.

"Okay, Mom," he said softly. "We've got salmon for lunch today; your favorite, remember?" Not ceasing her rocking, she craned her head around to look at him and smiled.

"You're such a good boy, Conor," she whispered. "Now run off and fetch your father, that's a good lad." At this, Conor swallowed nervously.

"Father's been dead for twenty years now, Mom," he said.

"Nonsense," his mother admonished. "Don't go telling me those tall tales, young man. I wasn't born yesterday; now go fetch your father."

Rolling his eyes, he irritably pushed his long hair out of his face and set her lunch down on the table, before taking his leave. He closed the door on his way out, and turned to face the man waiting for him in the hallway.

"She doesn't believe me," Conor told the younger man. "What can I do, Father?"

Severus Snape smiled and pushed his long, graying blackhair away from his face. "Leave it to me." He looked much the same as he always had; he didn't appear to have aged a day since Hermione Granger first entered his potions classroom 90 years before. Throwing open the double doors leading to their bedroom, he strode in and drew a breath to address his wife. Before he could say anything, however, she smiled.

"I always knew you would come back, Professor," she said faintly. "I can go now." He gasped and grabbed her arms as if to stop her, but she just leaned into his embrace. "I love you, Severus," she whispered with her dying breath.

Devastated, he clutched her close and sobbed into her crocheted sweater. "I love you too, Hermione." He held her all night, as the warmth faded from her body and he rued the day he ever fell in love with a Miss Hermione Granger.


	2. The Dream

okay, so i'll answer reviews at the bottom, but i just wanted to say that i'm expanding the story, and so all shall be explained in time, young padawans. and once again, i don't own any of the characters, i'm not making any money, blah blah blah... yeah. jk rowling owns them and i just play with them from time to time.

* * *

Exhausted after a day of teaching incompetents, Severus Snape stalked into his rooms, throwing his cloak across a chair and closing the door slowly. As soon as he heard the heavy door click shut, his shoulders drooped visibly and he leaned his head against the ancient wood, running his hands through greasy hair.

Today he met the boy. **The** boy. The one that he had been warned about, so many years before. He'd been denying his fate for years, scoffing it its face, ignoring the pull of destiny. Unbuttoning his shirt, a tired Snape trudged into the bathroom to wash up.

His quarters were sparse; one could almost call them Spartan. He splashed cold water over his face, used the toilet, and emerged once more, leaving his clothes on the floor for the house elves to pick up as he climbed into the large bed in his boxers. He eased under the comforter and fell back on the emerald silk sheets; his bed alone was fitted with expensive sheets and large pillows. He had indulged a couple years before, in the hopes that expensive bedding would help him sleep. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow; needless to say, the splurge had not been in vain. Severus's dreams that night, however, were not quite so restful.

_A young Severus Snape pulled back beaded curtains as he silently stepped into the seer's lair. It was dark; the blankets she had hung around the cave's mouth prevented any light from penetrating the darkness. There was a strong smell of incense as Severus entered, and he stifled a cough. She sat, head wrapped in a colorful scarf, gazing into a crystal ball, her back to Severus. "I've come," Severus said quietly. "Now what do you want?"_

_"I've a prophecy for you, young Snape," the seer said in a harsh whisper. Severus rolled his eyes; he had never had, and never would have, any tolerance for seers' nonsense. "I saw that," the seer said. "You know, Severus," she intoned. "You really should have more respect for your elders." Her head turned around at this, twisting all the way backwards on her neck. It was the boy's face glaring at him, with eyes of fire and empty mouth twisted in a sinister smile. Severus screamed, and the thing stepped towards him, grinning horribly._

_"You can't look away, can you?" the boy taunted. "You can't avoid your fate, Professor… you can't avoid me." With a malicious smile twisting his features, the seer/boy reached out a bony hand to grab hold of Severus's cape and--_

_The heavy blankets were torn away, and the cave was flooded with light. The seer/boy screamed in inhuman agony as a figure, clothed in light, stepped in, piercing the gloom and crackling with pure energy. Her long brown hair cascaded down her back in waves, reaching to her waist. Her eyes were a deep brown, intelligent and understanding. With a benevolent smile, she held out her hand to Severus, who was staring at her, the seer/boy forgotten. His mouth hanging open, he grasped her hand and she pulled him into her. "Hello, Professor," she spoke, and her words were like magic to him, sweet and soft._

_"Are you an angel?" he rasped, eyes wide, as she held him close._

_She smiled that smile again, softly angelic. "You could say that." She leaned her head against his. "Don't forget me, Severus," she whispered in his ear. "Treat me well."_

Severus woke, head pounding in time with his heart, drenched in sweat and tangled in sheets. Still shaking, he swung his feet onto the floor and stood unsteadily, making his way to the bathroom to pour himself a glass of water. He drank it slowly, staring into his reflection in the mirror and wondering what,who, he had just encountered. Professor, she had called him. Was she a student? 

Frustrated, he set the glass down carefully on the sink and, running his hand through sweat-drenched hair, made his way back to bed.

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mkay did you like it? hate it? r&r, s'il vous plait!

**cricket song** -- it is sad! this is gonna be kind of a bittersweet story... like the notebook, but not as good. i love that book.

**seshata** -- thanks! the plot bunny was giving me a headache, so i'm continuing it :)

**notwritten** -- i will, in time. this is just the beginning, don't worry.

**amr** -- yeah, something was left out; that was just the first chapter. it was meant to be confusing, but i'll explain everything.

**casanova black** -- hmm... i'd never thought of it like that, but you have a point. severus stays young for a different reason, though. that's a really interesting idea...


	3. The Boy

**so, i still don't own any of the characters, and i'm still not getting any money. argh.**

Hermione and her friends made their way through the crowded Gryffindor common room, on their way to their first class of the day. It was early December, and the halls, though drafty, were filled with Christmas cheer as the three first years descended into the dungeons for Potions with the Ravenclaws.

"'m tellin' you, 'arry," Ron was saying through a mouthful of chocolate chip muffin filched from the breakfast table, "if 'ufflepuff loses t' Ravenclaw, that'll put Slytherin in th' lead an' you'd 'ave to play them on Saturday an' if Snape's th' ref again then—"

"Oh, hush, Ron!" Hermione admonished. "Finish what you're eating before you spill crumbs everywhere! Look at you, you're covered with muffin!"

Ron swallowed, and then gave Hermione a messy grin. "With muffin, Hermione?" She scowled at him and harrumphed as they entered the Potions dungeon. They sat down at their usual table and settled in for a grueling lesson.

Snape entered the dungeon with his trademark sweeping-cape-accompanied-by-a-scowl, and the class hushed instantly. His lank black hair fell in his eyes and he shook it away irritably as he waved his wand and the instructions for the day's potion appeared on the board. "Get to it," he commanded, and the nervous first years bent over their cauldrons.

"Hermione," hissed Harry fifteen minutes later. "Hermione… _Hermione!_"

Annoyed, Hermione looked up from her happily bubbling cauldron, only to be faced with two identical expressions of despair from her best friends. "Oh, for goodness' sake," she muttered as she surreptitiously salvaged their potions. She was about to add crushed eye of newt when Snape spotted her.

Snape was having a bad day. He hadn't slept at all after his dream, and he lay awake for hours, wondering who his mysterious angel was. When his alarm went off, he groaned as he rose, bones cracking, and stumbled in to take a shower. The cold water woke him up, but it also put him in a very cranky mood. He had a headache, and he had discovered that morning that he'd run out of headache potion and he hadn't had time to brew another. Severus Snape was in the mood to pick on someone, and when he saw Granger helping Weasley and Potter, he smirked inwardly.

Silently, he strode towards them like a menacing shadow, eyes narrowed and hands clasped behind his back. "Miss Granger," he said sharply, and he smirked as she jumped. "What _exactly_ do you think you're doing?"

Hermione turned bright red. "I'm adding crushed eye of newt to Ron's potion, sir," she stammered.

"I would appreciate it," Snape drawled, "if you would cease. 10 points from Gryffindor. And next time, Miss Granger, please try to refrain from interfering with my teaching."

Hermione's eyes narrowed and her lips pursed as she nodded wordlessly as the Great Greasy Git of the dungeons returned to his desk. When he was sure that Snape was safely out of hearing range, Harry passed her a note.

"You okay Hermione?"

"I'm fine," she wrote back. "Just fix your own potions from now on."

The two boys nodded their assent, and all three got back to work. When class was over, Harry and Ron turned to her as they walked to Transfiguration. "Snape's just a greasy git, Hermione," Harry said.

"Dunno why he's even teaching," Ron said, "if he hates it so much. Don't worry, Hermione, he'll die someday."

Hermione turned to them, shocked. "Don't talk about him like that," she hissed. "He's a teacher. And," she added, looking at Harry. "It's Professor Snape."

Unbeknownst to the Golden Trio, the Greasy Git overheard them. Snape smiled when he heard the exchange, comfortable in the familiarity of the students' hatred. The smile vanished, however, when he heard Hermione defending him. He barely concealed a stare, incredulous that _she_ would defend him, and to her best friends! He looked away quickly, however, when he saw the boy look his way suspiciously.

"Don't look now," Ron muttered, "but he's right over there."

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so how did you like it? r&r!

i know the story isn't going very fast, but it'll get moving pretty soon. i know that i'm jumping around alot, but it'll all make sense in the end.

mhr


	4. The Prophecy

**The Elixir, part IV**

**The Prophecy**

_A young Severus Snape pulled back beaded curtains as he silently stepped into the seer's lair. It was dark; the blankets she had hung around the cave's mouth prevented any light from penetrating the darkness. There was a strong smell of incense as Severus entered, and he stifled a cough. She sat, head wrapped in a colorful scarf, gazing into a crystal ball, her back to Severus. "I've come," Severus said quietly. "Now what do you want?"_

"_I've a prophecy for you, young Snape," the seer said in a harsh whisper. Severus rolled his eyes; he had never had, and never would have, any tolerance for seers' nonsense. "I saw that," the seer said. "You know, Severus," she intoned. "You really should have more respect for your elders." Her head turned around at this, and heavily lidded eyes regarded him disdainfully._

_She stood up, drawing herself up to her full height. Even standing on her pile of furs, she was a full head shorter than Severus. Imperially, she handed him a crystal ball. He rubbed his calloused hands over it, and the seer's emaciated figure rose in a misty recording of the prophecy._

"**On the first day, of the ninth month, in his thirty-ninth year,**_" the seer's reproduction intoned as Severus and the seer watched it revolve slowly. "_**there will come a Boy who shall ruin Severus Tobias Snape. His blood will be as pure as his heart is noble, and his intentions will be good. If he does not find himself by the last day of the fifth month of his forty-seventh year, Severus Snape will be destroyed, and his one love taken from him. On the first day, of the ninth month, in his thirty-ninth year...**_"_

_The seer began again, and Severus stared at the prophetess, still revolving slowly, the mist flickering slightly as the sun began to break through the blankets. He had ten years to find this boy, he thought to himself, before the prophecy began. He grabbed the prophecy and strode out of the cave, blinking in the harsh sunlight before he Disapparated._


End file.
